


Death Comes for All

by silentsoundy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Death, Gore, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10079675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentsoundy/pseuds/silentsoundy
Summary: The various ways Reaper intends on checking names off that little list of his.





	1. Ana Amari

**Author's Note:**

> [a meme prompt from Tumblr I decided to archive here to test out what AO3 thinks of Overwatch random stuff.]
> 
> [Send me (scissors) and my muse will kill yours. Right now. Brutally, horribly, bloody. Just do it.]
> 
> Reaper: reyes-is-dead  
> Ana Amari: anathesniper

Ana..?

_He couldn’t recall how her eyepatch and scarf had ended up in his claws, how he’s on his knees kneeling in the mud and grime in the middle of the night through a particularly violent downpour.  Has no fucking idea where he is, when he is, who he’s been with, how he’d gotten there, why he’s there._

_All he can focus on through his bone-like mask is that eyepatch and a scarf spackled with gore, bits of silvery hair, soaked in blood._

Ana, where are..?

_His vision clears from the darkness and bloodlust as the whispers dwindle to fall into silent hisses and snickers, cruel sighs and muffled laughter, making it easier for him to gather the details of the environment around him._

_Jungle…  Objective… Intercepted…  Talon…  Overwatch…  Sniper…_

_Sniper…_

_…she had winged him.  Only winged him.  A warning.  Compassionate.  Stupid._

_So stupid…_

_He had just come from a fresh round of injections and conditioning.  Strong, cold, dispassionate, lacking empathy, apathetic._

_Angry.  So, so angry._

_The rifle’s bang resonating alongside the whizzing of that bullet, ping and twang and slicing through his leather and flesh and meat and blood…  It set him off, had woken the wraith, roused the monster, and he had hunted her down._

_…_

Ana…  please…

_Now he sees the mess of rags and crumpled body  a dozen meters or so off to the side, that rifle a few more meters away and he grips that patch and gore-soaked scarf to begin that frantic crawling sprint towards…_

_Towards her cloak and kit, armor and gear, boots and gloves and belt and ammunition and, and…_

_And he’s skidding in the mud and grime, fumbling over her body, taking those shoulders in his claws to flip her onto her back into his lap, hunched over to grip and paw and claw and hold and shake._

_It’s all her, every scrap and bit of flesh._

_Even if her face is no longer there and her head is snapped back at an odd angle._

_It’s Amari.  The sniper who winged him out of compassion._

Ana..?

_His Ana._

_The memories of the hunt surface to the swamp that his is mind as Talon’s evac-jet comes in for a landing and extraction._

_But he won’t leave her.  Not this time._

_The recon team will find nothing, the wraith having already taken his leave._

_Eyepatch, scarf, and all._


	2. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper: reyes-is-dead  
> Mercy: yourguardian-angel

You can see them too?

_The revelation elated him beyond anything that could be so easily described.  The truth had been so clearly reflected in her eyes the moment they lit up one by one, so slowly, so deliberate. made the doctor reach out and strain against the arm that barred across her chest, claw at his leather and armor, cry out with hiccuping breaths, begging with broken words and ragged sobs just to let her go._

_Let her go._

_Return her gear._

_Let her help them._

_They needed her help._

_They needed…_

_They…_

They’re all dead, Doctor Ziegler.  I know you can see them.  Do they light up for you too?  Are they bloody and red and floating on ash and smoke?  What do they look like to you?  Tell me, doctor.

_And to the Reaper the souls of her comrades pool above their fallen bodies, floating as he’s described to her, swirling orbs of fading light, so deliciously suspended between Here and There, ready, ripe, begging him to be consumed, devoured._

_The harvested fruit from his Death Blossom._

_And the sweetest thing of all this?_

_The slight slip of a woman whose will fades with every futile bit of struggling against him as he holds her to his cold armor and leather, forcing her to witness her failures first hand._

Can you touch and taste them too?  Do they fill the void where your own should be?

_He’ll twist an arm, a sharp jerk, harsh enough to hear that sickening snap and pop of a dislocated joint, and revel in the following screams and sobs.  Claws will rake across her face, pin back eyelids and hold up her head, forcing his plaything to watch on as he traipses over the still-warm bodies, absorbing soul after soul after soul._

_And when he’s done and the scent of her blood and gore, sweat and fear, piss and spittle permeates the air around them, he’ll turn this macabre danse fatale unto her, spotlight: Mercy._

I think I may just have room for dessert.  What do you say, _Angela_?

_Nothing much, apparently, when a clawed gauntlet pops through her ribs and out her back covered in what’s left of her innards._

_Oh look._

_The doctor’s light is actually golden._

_How quaint._


	3. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper: reyes-is-dead  
> Mercy: flashofyellowlight

Can an angel still fly with clipped wings?

_He’d be dying to know, really, since he first saw her take flight in her prototype those some-odd years prior to this most recent meeting up.  And now that he’s been given an excuse, seeing as how the good doctor’s so obviously and blatantly chosen sides, well he’d had made her his primary target in this little skirmish they’ve taken part in._

_With her team down and off licking wounds and the objective thoroughly dominated by his own, the Reaper’s taken it upon himself to track down the little angel and, like a kid with a captured butterfly, begin plucking those wings._

_Except it was with a single shot to her lower back to stun her and knock her from that annoying in-air dash, aiming to wind her before turning his claws on her, and less chasing her with a net._

_The armor falls first, peeled away like a ripened grapefruit with only the most minimalist effort exerted, he’ll kick her down when she struggles, cuff her upside her head when she mouths off or cries out too loud.  And when there’s nothing left but the dorsal attachments and implants, he’ll place a heavy boot between her shoulder blades and grip those pinions between steadfast claws._

Now you can scream for me, doctor.

_Which she does as he rips each mechanical appendage of.  Slowly._

_Until her throat runs raw and blood fills her lungs._


	4. Gabriel Reyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper: reyes-is-dead  
> Gabriel Reyes: commandergabrielr
> 
> Note: Multiverse selfcest AU

_Alright, the Reaper’s had enough of this new plaything, this young doppelganger of himself he’s stumbled upon by weird coincidence and chance.  Drinks and passing conversation, a bit of illicit fun and whatnot, all lead to the inevitable, and although the wraith hadn’t really meant to, his ego goaded him on to fuck with and fuck the young man now occupying the larger portion of the Motel 6′s double bed._

_Can anyone blame him, really?  He knows how hard he’s worked for that body.  Might as well enjoy it every which way he’s able to for as long as he’s able to._

_Which he did.  Vigorously.  For a few hours that night._

_So leaving that Gabriel to snooze in his post-coital half slumber, belly down, ass up, face nuzzled into a pillow, Reaper’s going to back off and with all that weird science and tech he’s infused with, recall his leather and metal, claws and cowl.  And return to approach the foot of the bed to lean in and crawl on hand and knee along those muscled legs, thick thighs, red and welt-laden ass and with that monstrous segmented tongue, part his maw to travel a long languid slick lap from coccyx to nape of that neck._

_Until he’s straddling those hips again, pinning this younger self down with a set of claws coming round to cover that unmarred face, shaking that head once to wake him up and pulling back to forcefully arch the man up and against him._

Wakey, wakey sunshine…

_His free hand makes to reach and grip that exposed throat, hooking claw tips behind that thick cord of artery, piercing thin flesh and holding the other man still._

_The scent of blood and startled fear permeates through the cheap motel’s usual miasma of dirty sex and drugs and alcohol._

_Makes the Reaper lean in and grin, a snicker melding into a low moan shifting to a gravel-filled sigh presses against an ear._

I’m going to do you a solid, _Gabriel_ , and spare you this fate…

_And it’s with a quick twist, flexing of cold, dead muscles, the curling of claws and fingers, and with raucous laughter does Reaper tear out that pretty, smooth throat, jerking back with all his weight until there’s an audible sickening snap of that lower spine._

_He holds on as if a lover embracing the object of their affections, falling back upon those legs, those stained sheets, bent at awkward angles with the spray of arterial blood flow flecked about and pooling around them._

_And he’ll laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh_


	5. Soldier: 76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper: reyes-is-dead  
> Soldier: 76: scarslookgood

Hah...  Motherfucker, y’got me...

_An understatement squelched out from lips dripping with vomited blood slithering up his esophagus from lungs filling unchecked.  Finally.  It had finally happened. From years and years upon years and years of the hunt and chase, confrontations and exchanges, the triggers had been pulled while the punched had flown freely.  And here they are, the cause and effect of the whole shit-show, not twenty feet apart, ragged, spent, riddled with holes, flesh torn, guts shredded._

_And yet they lived.  For the moment._

_Masks cracked away, falling to shards, shattered in the dirt and gore that lay about them.  Their own field of nightmares._

You...  You got your hands on... on some... hah...  some bullshit Talon tech, you sonnovabitch...  Put me in the-ah... dirt real fast, those fucking shells...

_He knew it, Morrison knew it, what the ammunition would do to him and what he’s become, and the old soldier hadn’t even hesitated, itchy trigger finger and all._

_Must have had something to do with that little video he sent his ex-BFF, the Reaper snickers to himself._

_Watching Ana’s body being disposed of without context must have broken the old dog.  Mission accomplished as far as the wraith’s concerned._

_But this?_

_Heh, comeuppance, he guesses._

Worth it, _Jack_?  All this shit, was it really worth it?  You’re fucking dead too, old man.

_A globule of congealing gore is hacked up, spat out, a stain left to dribble down beard and splatter into the dirt before him as those dark, bloody eyes bore into those pale blues slumped across from him.  The Reaper grins, tongue flicking out the corner of his mouth as if he’s enjoying the macabre spectacle._

There’s no fucking way you’re walking away from this, Super Soldier.  No... hn--!  No goddamn...  damn...  mmh... way.  Hah...

_Quite literally too, with the way those legs had been twisted around when 76 fell from the eight round of Hellfire buckshot emptied point-blank into his lower back.  Wasn’t much left keeping the soldier together but that infamous guts ‘n glory.  But to his credit, the fact that he was still alive, able to glare right back at the wraith and pant haggard breaths was a testament to his resolve.  The Reaper gives him that, always was a stubborn asshole._

This...

_He can’t even finish within the same breath’s span, so all he does is laugh and choke and spew his guts until he can gather what’s left of himself.  The ground is inviting and Morrison is so far away now, maybe he’ll go join him, crawl on over to watch the light fade and the soul depart._

_Damn fucking shame he won’t be able to devour this last one._

_A crying shame._

_They’ll be found days later, claws entangled, gripping silvery hair while a leather-clad glove clings to a fistful of black cowl._

_Yeah._

_This is how it should have been._


	6. Jesse McCree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper: reyes-is-dead  
> Jesse McCree: gamfcowboy

I told you.

_They won’t stop flexing, those claws of his, a slow, lethargic rhythm as if mimicking a heartbeat.  A heartbeat that no longer pulsed.  Gripping flesh, entangled in sinew and strands of muscle, membrane and caught in between bones.  Those metallic talons fastened to leather and held together by strange-weird science, nanites._

Don’t you remember?  That first night, you ‘n me, we came face to face, alone at last and I told you.

_Moonlight filtered by lazy wisps of clouds still in a breezeless night shines pale streaks over a discarded owl’s skull, a still-smoking Peacekeeper , charred Hellfires, feathers an ivory sheen over leather and wool, metal and armor.  Not enough shadows cast to hide sin and regret._

You laughed and shrugged and spoke cowboy bravado and rhetoric.  But I told you.

_A bloodied gauntlet’s been discarded, the arm it was attached too elbow deep in a chest that no longer rises.  No longer falls.  Seared flesh where shotguns had busted through armor and opened up gut curls stinking tendrils of sickly smoke around that arm.  An arm pushed up into a gaping yet still cavity.  Claws that flex and massage a heart that’s been broken beyond repair._

And we laughed together for a while, while we fucked and fought, and still I told you.

_Dark eyes have yet to film over, rolled back as they are, lids slack and slit, crows feet sleeping as relaxed as the soft creases around that full supple mouth have fallen._

_A Wraith’s final kiss presses to the hints of cigarillos and aged whiskey still lingering.  The light of a summoned soul fades as that last token of affection feeds greedily._

It was going to be me, in the end.  

We weren’t going to fall together, Jesse.  

You’d be the last name checked off.

We laughed for a decade about it.

But I told you.

I promised you.

I love you.


End file.
